It's Too Bad That I Don't Care

The average teenage girl spends thirty percent of her time worrying about how she looks. She spends twenty percent of her time worrying about how everyone else thinks she looks. She spends ten percent of her time worrying about how other people look/make her look. She spends fifteen percent of her time swooning over every boy that walks past. She spends another fifteen percent of her time in pointless debates and arguments with parents and friends. That leaves about ten percent of her time to act like a normal human being.


It really amazes me how much the average teenager can worry about looks in general. That's about sixty percent of those made up statistics up there. And then there's a whole other major section of the world that is poking and proding and telling them what is wrong with them and what they should be doing and looking like.

It's in people, it's in the media, it's in advertisements for every single product on the market. And it's not only for teenagers. Everyone is marketed. Everyone is told they aren't whatever and will never be whatever without being a certain way or having a certain thing.

They don't even care. It's how they make sales, it's how they get their product out there. It can be subtle, and it can be right in your face. Either way, it's there.

A girl has to look this way to be beautiful.

A guy has to have this to be masculine.

Outside of the media, it's from the people you see every day. The people you know. The people you love. Why do they do this? I don't know. Maybe it's because of advertising and the media that people think there is one way to be. Maybe people just need an ideal to reach for so that their lives aren't so bad.

It's really too bad I don't care about fitting into a mold, or living up to anyones fake ideals.

"Oh, you should dress more girly, be more girly, act more girly. See, don't you look nice now?"
Too bad I don't care.

"You should really do something about that acne you have, [insert event here] is coming up. You wouldn't want to have all that acne."
Too bad I don't care.

"Oh, don't you have some makeup to put on? You didn't do anything about that acne."
It's too bad I don't care.

It's too bad I don't care that I'm a tomboy and don't have the boys breaking down my door. I'm not going to care that I have acne, I'm going to do what I will to take care of it but I don't care that it's there. I don't like wearing makeup, I don't like how it makes me feel. I'm going to go run around outside and climb trees and fall down, I'm not going to sit around in a dress and be "girly". I don't need a boyfriend to be happy. I had a boyfriend for a while, it was cool, we broke up, now I don't have one. I don't particularly care if I have one or not, either. I'm not going to do the things anyone wants me to do, because I'm not that kind of person.

I'm going to be whoever the hell I want, and do the things that are me.

Sorry 'bout your luck, it's just too bad that I don't care.

Fuck You, Bitch!

One of the most amusing things that could ever happen at my high school was a rousing round of skank versus skank. For anyone who didn't go to a skank high school, this is when two skanks get into what they call a "fight" at school. Usually in the hallway between classes, and sometimes in the cafeteria.

These "fights" are hardly even fights. It's rare to even see someone walk away with a physical injury. What happens is something like this:

Skank one: Bitch!

Skank two: What, bitch?

Skank one: (insert accusation having to do with drugs, beer, or sexual partners and on rare occasions friends/family members being badmouthed by skank two).

Skank two: I don't know what you're talkin' about whore!

By this time, skanks one and two have wasted their time throwing curses and gramatically incorrect insults that several teachers have intervened and are now pulled them away from each other.

Skank one: Fuck you, whore!

Skank two: Bitchsticks!

Yeah, you read that right. Bitch. Sticks. Someone at my school actually said that. I heard it. With my own ears. And then I laughed.

Anyways, the fight is easily resolved because skanks one and two have accepted their defeat by the school faculty members who would never in a million years hope to be in shape enough to actually stop a real fight. Skanks one and two now walk to the front office and await their punishment in silence.

I just can't help but laugh at these fights. I mean, why get yourself so worked up if you're not even going to hit someone? And really, bitchsticks?

Once, just once, I would like to see two skanks really battle it out in the hall with real fighting and properly phrased insults. Maybe the intelligence level just isn't high enough in your average skank for this sort of fight. Maybe it's just my crazy school.

Who knows, but it'd make my day to see two people give it some thought before jumping into a failure of a fight in the hallway at school.

"You Know What They Say..."

Whenever someone is imparting some piece of wisdom, the mysterious "they" is always referenced.

If you have no idea what I'm talking about:

"They say you should wait half an hour after eating before going swimming."
"They say a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush."
"You know what they say: a rolling stone gathers no moss."

But who is this "they"? Of course someone came around once and first said these things, but then wouldn't it make sense to say "You know what [insert inventor of statement] says..." or even "You know what he/she says..."

I like to imagine the infamous "they" as a group of wise gentlemen and ladies sitting on leather couches in a windowless room constantly repeating the world's words of wisdom. This group is the they that says all these things. They give us all wisdom so that we may better ourselves and avoid drowing by swimming too soon after we eat.

-Lauren-

Note: "they" is of no relation to the "she" that said all those things.

Character Development: Villians

One of the biggest cliche's in literature is the villian. The less-intuitive reader may not notice - they may just be enjoying the gore and fear spilling out from the villians reign of terror - but most villians are very two-dimensional characters, and seriously lacking character development.

A villian ought to be "evil" and ought to do dasterdly things and cause fear. These actions all need motivation behind them, though. A person doesn't just wake up one day and decide to take over the world, because they have suddenly deemed themselves evil and are kind of bored.

It's just like how no one wakes up and decides "Hey, it's a great day to do my taxes!". It's the motivation of it being the last day to do them that makes people wake up and say "Holy cow, I need to do my taxes!"

When you get to the root of it, a villian needs a motive, and the motive has to be more than boredom.

It can be disappointing how little writers care for their villians. They don't get the same loving affection as, say, the hero does. The hero gets widely developed. A good hero is three dimensional, almost a real person. They have qualities that make them human. They have emotions, fears, dreams.

Villians are almost always all powerful, power hungry, and massively unintelligent - because, of course, you can't make it too difficult for the hero to defeat them.

Honestly, it's more interesting to see the hero struggle a bit. It's probably immensely more interesting to write too.

In my mind, a good villian would be incredibly evil, but they would also be human. I don't care if the villian is a twenty foot tall china doll, I want it to have human qualities that make it more than some purely evil being bent on destruction of the world.

A good villian would have great motives. I want to be rooting for the bad guy at some point (of course, I should always want the hero to win in the end). I want their evil reign of terror to make sense.

I also want the villian to be intelligent. They should not equip their dungeons poorly enough for an imprisoned hero to escape. They should never be leaving important things unguarded. They should surround themselves with intelligent companions who will aid their evil. They should kill the hero when they are presented that always-present easy opportunity. (Seriously, when was the last time you read a book where the villian just waltses by the unequipped, untrained hero when they - since they are "all powerful" - could easily destroy them and leave nothing but ash in their place?)

Make the hero work to defeat the villian. Make them suffer. Make their outlook bleak. Because honestly, if the hero is good enough they'll be able to handle it.

I'm Such A Tease

I've actually been told this before. It was pretty much news to me. I don't see myself as a tease, or one who would desire to be a tease. Anyways, that's not the subject of this blog.

It's Teaser Tuesday! Horray! *throws confetti*

The subject of this Teaser is going to be one of my recent favorite characters, a young man called Rigel. Rigel lives in the Grand City of Icarthia, and someone I find to be a rather interesting character. Writing him is a task, it really is. This blog may be a bit long, as I'm going to include several excerpts that include him.

Background on Teaser One: Natura has ventured to the Grand City of Icarthia to compete in the Ascensian Academy Trials for Acceptance. Long story short: she was forced by Grena and Ina because of stuff. I know, wonderfully descriptive. It's not very important for this, though. Natura is currently under the alias of Liana Halle, for reasons that don't really matter.

She stood in the entrance to the stable, squinting to see inside. The day was bright, and now her eyes were having trouble adjusting to the dimmer light in the stable. Once she could see clearly, she saw Rigel standing in front of a stall towards the other end of the stable. Arian’s head stuck out over the stall’s low door. Rigel was talking softly to him and feeding him an apple. He glanced toward Natura, smiled slyly, and spoke louder.

“You lady is nearly as beautiful as your coat, sir,” he said as he stroked Arian’s neck. “Surely it is a fine quality in you both.”

“Charming,” Natura said as she walked to where Rigel stood. “You probably say that to all the horses though, don’t you?”

Rigel laughed. “Well I can’t be treating them differently, now can I? They may plan a revolt.” He flashed a smile at Natura. She had to remember to breathe, his smile catching her off guard again.

She laughed to calm herself down, but it came out awkwardly. She looked away from Rigel, and ran her fingers through Arian’s mane. He rubbed his nose on her shoulder and whinnied in appreciation. Natura smiled and buried her face in his mane, almost forgetting Rigel was still standing beside her.

“You have a fine horse, Miss…?”

Natura blushed, realizing he was watching her still. “Liana Halle,” she said. The name felt wrong on her tongue, but she tried not to let it show.

“Well, Miss Halle, I would love to stay and continue to compliment your horse but-”

“Rigel!” an agitated yell echoed through the stable.

“Duty calls,” he said. He smiled once more, nodding to Natura and Arian, before running out of the stable.

Background on Teaser Two: Natura has been knocked to the ground outside of the city's library. Grena has accompanied Natura to the trials (though Grena is not competing) to ensure Natura goes through with it. I'm really only posting this part because Grena comes so close to ass-kicking it's not even funny. Actually, it's hilarious. Grena is awesome.

“Are you alright?” she was asked again. Natura looked up further to see Rigel – though quite a different Rigel than the one she had met in the stable – standing in front of her. She blushed and looked back to the ground.

“I’m fine,” she mumbled.

“Let me help you,” he said.

Natura lifted a hand and he pulled her to her feet. She adjusted her clothes and dusted herself off once she was back on stable footing.

“I’m so sorry,” Rigel said. “We were playing and my friend has terrible aim.” He bent over to pick a ball up from the ground.

“It’s fine. I-”

“Liana!” Grena’s panicked voice interrupted. “What happened? I saw you fall! Are you okay?”

Natura looked over to see Grena running over to her. Natura opened her mouth to calm her down, but Grena didn’t give her time to say anything.

“Did he push you?” she demanded, glaring at Rigel.

“What? No! Of course not!” he insisted. “My friend has terrible aim!”

Hah, sure Rigel. Terrible aim. (Actually, the friend - Ashton - has godawful aim.)
Background on Teaser Three: Rigel is a failure, his team lost a nameless game to Natura and Grena. This is short, but it amuses me.

“I demand a rematch,” Rigel said.

Natura opened her eyes and looked at him. He sat with his arms crossed and the ball in his lap.

“For the seventh time, Rigel, shut up,” Braden said, smacking him on the head with his wooden hoop.

“Yes, Rigel, just accept that the women win,” Grena said, giving him an impish smile.

He frowned and continued to grumble to himself.

“It seems we may have injured his pride,” Natura said to Ashton.

“Trust me, Icarthia is a better place with a more humble Rigel,” Ashton said.

Background on Teaser Four: Another short one. Rigel is quite the looker, as many of the young women of Icarthia have noticed. In this scene, a gaggle of young women was gathered around Rigel. Until he started talking.

“What happened?” Natura asked, trying to suppress a laugh as she watched Rigel looking around himself for the rest of the women who had just been there.

“The last one to leave had asked a very simple question about the Icarthian Castle. Rigel explained everything, in great detail, from the building process to every slight repair that had ever been made to it,” Ashton explained.

Natura watched a dejected Rigel wander over to where she stood with Ashton. He collapsed onto the ground and groaned, “Women.”

“No luck?” Ashton asked.

Rigel sat up and shrugged. “Some women just can’t handle a real man.”

Background on Teaser Five: Last one, I swear. Natura, Ashton, and Rigel have all passed the trials and are at a celebration for anyone who progressed to the final trial. Natura was sitting with Ashton, but encouraged him to go ask a young lady to dance. Rigel has been dancing and flirting, as is his usual.

“What’re you sitting all alone over here for, Liana?” he asked, leaning forward on the table to grab a roll from a basket. He took a bite from it, and continued talking. “This is a celebration and you’re over here brooding.”

“I’m not brooding,” Natura said, crossing her arms defensively. “Ashton was just here.”

Rigel looked around at the empty benches. He even glanced under the table. “Well I don’t see him,” he said with an exasperated sigh.

Dramatic fool, Natura thought. Christiana would appreciate him.

“He was here,” she said.

Finishing off his roll, Rigel brushed the crumbs from his hands and stood. He held out a hand to Natura. “Come on, Miss Liana,” he said.

“What for?” Natura asked, staring at his hand like it would kill her.

Rigel groaned and grabbed her arm, pulling her from the table. “To dance,” he said as he led her closer to the fire and the other dancers. “Jeez, you sure can kill a moment.”

“I don’t dance,” Natura said, pulling her arm away. She hadn’t danced in a public place since she was seven years and Alger Penn stepped on her foot and knocked her into the fountain at a gathering back in Parcel. No boy had asked her after that, either, since Christiana took it upon herself to repay poor Alger with a black eye.

“Yeah, yeah,” Rigel said. He grabbed her hand with one of his, and wrapped his other arm around her waist. He pulled her close to him and swung them into the dance with the other young Icarthians.

------------
Alright, I'm done. There are definitely a few others that come after this but this blog post is long enough. Some of these parts aren't as well written as they could be. Most of them haven't been edited at all yet. First drafts are fun, huh?

Happy Tuesday

-Lauren-

Praise versus Criticism: The Battle of the Century

As a part of a writing community like YWS (Yes, this is another Young Writers Society related blog entry) I see a lot of interaction between writers and reviewers. Especially since I've recently been made a Junior Moderatior and have been given modly powers over the fiction forums, and have to make sure people are being nice and obeying rules and the sort.

The whole reviewing thing typically goes pretty well:
-A writer posts a work they worked very hard on, and are quite proud of.
-A reviewer reviews the work, giving some praise and a lot of constructive criticism.
-The writer says "Thank you, good sir. You have commented constructively on my story/poem/script and now I shall take your suggestions into consideration so my talent may improve."

Unfortunately, this is not how it always goes. Sometimes, we have what I like to call Bad Reviewer Syndrome:

-A writer posts a work they worked very hard on, and are quite proud of. (Same as before)
-A reviewer reviews the work in one of two ways:
1. "OMG U ROCK I LUV U THIS IS AWSUM MARRY ME?!?!"
2. "Uh, you suck. Why on earth are you posting on here? You should go in a hole and die."
-The writer is confused, and perhaps a little hurt, but just ignores the review because the reviewer is obviously cracked and doesn't understand what YWS is for.

This is a lot easier to deal with, and something I see a lot as a JM. Usually it's the first one, though it can be the second. I can easily send the reviewer a messege and give them tips on reviewing well.

Then, we have what I like to call Bad Writer Syndrome. Now this doesn't mean the writing is bad, not at all, it means...well just watch.

-A writer posts a work they spent a lot of time on, and are far too proud of. They expect praise, a lot of praise. In their cracked little sunshine world, they are the best writer ever. Nothing they do is wrong. Everyone will love them forever.
-A reviewer comes along and sees the work isn't as good as it could be. The reviewer takes time out of their busy day to give contstructive criticism on the work, hoping to help the writer improve.
-The writer responds in a way something like this: "Oh, God, what is wrong with you? This thing is brilliant! You're just stupid. I hate you. I didn't want criticism. I put this here to get praise. AND ONLY PRAISE!!! You can just [rest of comment censored]."

*face/palm*

It doesn't make sense to me. Really it doesn't. In a place like YWS, we thrive on constructive criticism to make us better, and some praise to make us feel good about ourselves. Plus, a good reviewer always finds something nice to say about the work.

People just seem to take constructive criticism as a personal attack. I don't understand it, but they do. Constructive criticism is mean to help not hurt. That's why it's called CONSTRUCTIVE criticism.

And that goes for anything. If someone is telling you something constructively, whatever the situation, you shouldn't react by bringing out your battle ax and kicking some ass. If they're intentionally trying to hurt you or make you feel terrible, then kick all the ass you want.

But constructive criticism is meant to help you. So listen to it!

Also, never expect praise from everyone. Not everyone is going to like you all the time, or ever for that matter. Praise doesn't do anything for you besides giving you an inflated sense of self. It can be good when you've really done something worth praising, but when you don't deserve praise then it doesn't help you at all. When you don't deserve praise, but people are praising you anyways because you bring out that battle ax whenever you get criticism, then they are just praising you because they don't want to die and not because they actually think you did anything great.

Deal with the constructive criticism when it comes (and please, use it to improve!!), and revel in the praise when you deserve it.

-Lauren-

When Life Gives You Lemons...

The lemonade never tastes as good as you hope.

Pardon that rather depressing comment. It's been a rough day.On to the subject of this blog, then. Which, in fact, is completely lemon-less.

Why are teenagers so stupid? I know, I'm a teenager. But still. Why?? I mean, it's like every little bit of common sense has been sucked out of almost every teenager alive. It hardly makes sense that a high school student can't seem to make sense of things.

I personally believe I have well developed common sense abilities. I am able to figure things out by deductive reasoning. I can use context clues. I know that no, it's not intelligent to eat the paint in the art room. (Yes, this happened in my art class. More than once.)

Was there some brainwashing ceremony around the age of fourteen that I wasn't aware of?

It just kills me how much people don't know. And really, it's not just teenagers. But it probably starts around then. Here's a little scenario:

A teenager knows nothing about anything.
Their parents don't care that they know nothing about anything. "Oh, they're just a teenager. They'll grow out of it."
They don't grow out of it.
"Oh, it's just a phase."
It's not just a phase.
"Well, there's nothing we can do about it now."
Yeah, you're right. They're thirty-four now and still don't know that at a stop sign, it's a pretty good idea to stop!

This rant is pretty pointless, but it's one of my major pet peeves. Another is people over-reacting and blowing things out of proportion. I also dislike chat-speak and the bad grammar it encourages. But those are different rants, for different days.

-Lauren-

The Tuesday Tease

Hey, it's Tuesday! I can't believe I even remembered about teasing. I've been majorly busy with school lately, and I even took a week-long break from the Young Writers Society to deal with it all. I haven't been writing at all this week either because of the massive school stuff.

But that's okay, because I'm starting this blog off with the start of Eventide, and working my way through the teasers I posted on YWS up to where I'm working on now.

Background info time:
Natura has just woken up from a hauntingly realistic nightmare, and is in her bed in her room in her family's cottage in her village in Icarthia. Exciting, I know.

This isn't the best bit of Eventide, and it is part of a big section that needs some massive editing. But I really like the interaction between Natura and her friend Christiana.

--------------

Natura opened her eyes slowly, finding herself staring at the straight wooden boards that spanned the ceiling of her bedroom, and not floating in perpetual darkness as she had feared. She blinked a few times, wondering if she was, in fact, further away from the ceiling that usual.


The answer came with a slobbery lick-to-the-face by Alaster from where he stood on the floor next to her. Natura pushed him away and sat up. Once she had a grasp on her surroundings, the dream came rushing back to her. It was all she could do to not shout as pain shot through her head again. Alaster whimpered and nuzzled her shoulder, and she semi-consciously pet him while she stared into space.


The dream had been so real this time. The man in the shadows, as she had begun to refer to him as, had spoken to her. He had spoken to her with the most bone-chilling voice she had ever heard, and it had been comforting yet disturbing at the same time.

“You were dreaming,” a familiar voice stated, breaking Natura from her daze.


She peered over the edge of her bed to find a young woman lying on it, staring at the ceiling, light from the window reflecting off her familiar color-streaked hair . “What?”


“You were dreaming, and you screamed,” she said. “Loud.”


“And somehow ended up on the floor,” Natura added.


A devilish smile crept over her mouth, and a strand of pink hair fell into her face, “Again, you were screaming.”

Natura raised an eyebrow. “How exactly does that result in me being on the floor, Christiana?”

“Well I had to wake you up somehow."

Christiana laughed and tossed the pillow back at Natura. She sat up on the bed and stretched her arms to the ceiling, and ran her hands through her multi-colored hair. Yellow, blue, red, pink, and purple strands curled around her fingers as she moved her hands through the brown roots of her hair.

“So why are you in my room this early anyways?” Natura asked her.

Christiana shrugged. “I forget everything before I found you screaming.”

--------------

Hope that was enjoyable to read. Any comments on what was good? Any comments on what should be improved?

-Lauren-

I Wandered Lonely As A Cloud

By William Wordsworth

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shineA
nd twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,In such a jocund company:
I gazed--and gazed--but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

Teaser Tuesday

On my "blog" on The Young Writers Society, we [the members who keep up blogs] post teasers every tuesday from things we have been working on writing wise. It's a fun exercise, and so I'm going to keep it up here.

After much deliberation, I have decided to start from the beginning of my current novel project, Eventide. It's fantasy, I guess you could say high fantasy but I'm not very up on the lingo so maybe not.

A little background:
Natura and Nolen are siblings, Natura being my MC (main character). They live in Parcel, a small hunting village in Icarthia. Icarthia is largely forest, and one of nine countries on the continent of Ascensia. In this scene, Natura and Nolen have been playing a sort of dueling game in the forest outside of their village (it includes arrows under some sort of magical influence, running around barefoot, and other aspects that don't matter for this scene) and Natura has clearly won.

-----

She stood over his body triumphantly. “Told you,” she mocked.

He didn’t move, but mumbled a few indiscernible words into the dirt.

“What was that, Nolen?” Natura asked. “You say, yes Natura, you did tell me you would win. I was a fool to believe I could ever defeat you?”

Nolen managed to turn his head to the side slightly. “Nu,” he mumbled, “I sed, thet wus unfer.”

Natura fell to the ground laughing. “You should hear yourself!”

“Nah funey, Natra.” he mumbled.

Once she had composed herself again Natura pushed Nolen’s large body up so he was sitting against the earth wall. He sat slumped to the side, a discontented expression clinging to his face.

“I hate you,” he finally spoke clearly.

“Oh, don’t say that,” Natura scolded as she pulled the arrow she had hit him with from the wall– it had passed straight through him and lodged itself in the earth wall. “You know, these arrows are quite handy. How did you manage to get them to work that way?”

“You wouldn’t be interested,” Nolen said, “And don’t change the subject.”

Natura sat next to him and smiled. “Okay. I’m sorry that I beat you so bad, even after I warned you I would.”

Nolen frowned, or rather attempted to frown. It looked more like he had just eaten something that had spoiled. “Well on the positive side, you have to carry me home.”

Natura groaned at the thought of carrying Nolen back home. “But you’re twice my size,” she complained.

“Come on now, big sister. Help your little brother get home.”

Natura sighed and pulled him to his feet. His legs gave out and she found herself with all of Nolen’s weight hanging on her shoulder. “So much for you being a little brother, what are you, fifteen years? Shouldn’t your big sister at least look like she’s three years your elder?”

“Nope,” he gloated, leaning further on her.

Natura groaned, the weight buckling her knees. “Do you want me to leave you here?” she asked him.

He sighed. “No, I guess not.” He took some of his weight off of his sister.

Even with the extra weight off, Nolen was still extraordinarily heavy. Natura struggled to walk with his weight, and to avoid the two rambunctious wolves – barely out of pup-hood – that entertained themselves by running around Natura’s legs and being as underfoot as possible.

Progress was slow, as Natura struggled between keeping Nolen upright and trying to avoid stepping on a wolf’s paw. And, much to Natura’s chagrin, Nolen spent his time spouting off reasons why he, in fact, won and Natura didn’t.

“You see, the ending arrow shouldn’t be the decision of the true victor. The true victor ought to be the one who tracked the best, fought valiantly, and proved himself the strongest!” Nolen said, waving his arm that wasn’t around Natura’s shoulders to prove his points.

Natura rolled her eyes and pushed him off of her. He fell backwards on the ground, his eyes and mouth wide open. “If you’re strong enough to wave your arms around, you’re strong enough to walk,” Natura said. She walked away, leaving Nolen to the mercy of the wolves. Alaster and Nolen’s wolf, Jade, ran circles around Nolen, jumping into his lap and licking his face.

“Oh you’re just sore because I should have won!” he called after her. “Hey - get- get offa me!” he shouted, pushing the wolves away and clambering to his feet.

He jogged after Natura, stumbling a bit here and there, and grabbed her around the waist. He threw her over his shoulder and kept running.

“Nolen! Nolen let me down!” Natura yelled, hitting his back with fisted-hands. “Oh, I knew you were fine enough to walk!”
-----

Well, that's all for this tuesday. I'll try to post frequently if I remember and have something written.

-Lauren-

Death To Prologues (A Rant)

Dear disillusioned writers, often in the genre of fantasy, often in my midst on the Young Writers Society,

Please, please, please stop writing prologues. Or prefaces. Or "introductins". Just. Stop. I don't care if they give you an epic sense of accomplishment, or set the tone amazingly for your story. None of it is true. None. So stop. Right now. My demanding words aren't enough fo you? Alright. Here are reasons why you should put down that pencil/close that word document and stop writing that prologue.

Anti-Prologue Reason #1
If you are relying on that pathetic bit of prose to spark excitement, hook the reader, and carry the story for the next 50,000 words then you are my biggest problem. A prologue should never ever be relied on to be a hook. I'm guessing six out of eight people completely skip the prologue anyways. So those six people don't even get to experience the "awesome beginning". They get to read the first page of the first chapter, and then they're bored because you wasted all your excitement on something that doesn't even matter.

The first chapter, no, the first page should be what hooks the reader. From line one the reader should want to read your story. Now, those six readers might actually want to continue reading your story instead of closing it and throwing it out a window.

Anti-Prologue Reason #2
Okay, so you aren't relying on the prologue to be a hook. You have a pretty damn good hook in your first chapter. But, still. There's something "epic" about an action-packed prologue. If you just reveal a little action from later in the story (ahem, Stephanie Meyer. On a sidenote, this is one of the few things I will actually "bash" her for. All those paragraph long prologues need to be ripped out and burned. They are doing a pathetic amount of good), when the reader gets bored in chapter two they will keep reading because action was promised later, right?

WRONG.

Chapter two should be as enthralling as chapter one, chapter seven, and chapter sixty-four. It doesn't matter if there is a massive action scene, a heart-pounding romance, or if the main character is just washing the dishes. To be a successful story, it should still be good. This comes from author style, good characters, and an overall good plot.

ANY PROLOGUE THAT EXISTS FOR THE SAKE OF "EXCITING ACTION" IS A PROLOGUE THAT SHOULD NOT EXIST.

THE SAME GOES FOR A PROLOGUE THAT EXISTS FOR THE SOLE PURPOSE OF HAVING A PROLOGUE.

Anti-Prologue Reason #3

Okay. So the prologue isn't the hook, and it isn't for exciting action. This prologue, this gem, is forshadowing. *Cue audience ooh's and aah's*

Again, no. Chances are, the events you are forshadowing won't even come into play until the last fourth of the story. In which case, one of two things will happen.

1. The reader has forgotten about the forshadowful prologue and just keeps reading. Or, they vaugely remember it and spend the next fifteen minutes flipping back through the pages to figure out what was actually forshadowed so they can effectively move on in the story.

2. Upon reading the forshadowful prologue, the reader is intruiged and wants to find out what is going to come of this forshadowing. The reader then proceeds to read quickly - mostly skimming - until they get to the part that was forshadowed. When they get to it, they are less pleased than they should have been because they don't really know what happened up to that point.

Forshadowing is good. But in small doses, and scattered through the story.

It is more exciting this way.

Anti-Prologue Reason #4

The prologue is just an over-glorified first chapter. Basically, the action from the prologue flows directly into the action in chapter one.

This is an easy fix.

Erase the word PROLOGUE.

Write CHAPTER ONE in its place.

Pro-Prologue Reason #1

The big problem with prologues is that 98% of the time they are written badly. They do several things mentioned above. Though, forshadowing can be utilized effectively in a prologue. The action it is forshadowing just should happen before the end of the story.

What a prologue should be is something necessary. The story should not be the same without the prologue. If you read your prologue, and then think of the story and think "you know, I probably don't need this in order for someone to be able to read and understand the story" then you should just lose the prologue.

A prologue should give necessary and vital information that the reader absolutely needs in order to start reading the story. Tolkiens "Concerning Hobbits" in the Lord of the Rings is a good example. It's not the most exciting thing to read, but it gives important information the reader would not have known otherwise about Hobbits.

My advice doesn't go much further than that, because for all these reasons I do not write prologues. My biggest suggestion is to write the story first and then add in a prologue if it seems necessary.

(end rant)

-Lauren-